The Great Wide Somewhere
by TheHinkyPanda
Summary: Belle French wants an adventure and when her father remarries, she takes her chance by responding to an advertisement asking for a woman to make a difference in the life of widower Gold and his son, Bae. But Gold isn't too keen on letting anyone in for fear of finding out about what exactly happened in his past. Rumbelle AU.
1. Chapter 1

**The Great Wide Somewhere**  
**Chapter One**

_Needed: Widower and son in need of a woman's touch. Must enjoy adventure and be unafraid of hard work. Not looking for love, just someone to make a difference._

Belle French tucked the worn advertisement into the pocket of her dress before entering her father's study. He would be working on the shipping logs and schedules of his fleet during the morning hours and after lunch he would be down at the docks supervising in person until dinner. This would be her only chance to speak with him in the day and it needed to be done sooner rather than later.

"Morning, Papa."

"Ah, Belle!" He greeted her with open arms and a kiss to the crown of her head. "What brings you in here this morning?"

"It's only a month until your wedding," she fiddled with the folds of her skirt, "and I just wanted to discuss my options for afterwards."

Her father gave her a slightly panicked look. "Options for afterwards? Belle, darling, you know you're more than welcome in this house."

"Oh, I know that, Papa, but I think it is time I found my own way." She was twenty -three and in a month her father would be marriage for a second time. There really wasn't going to be a better time to find her own life then now.

Maurice French closed his ledger with a sigh. "I was going to wait until he arrived but I suppose I can't now."

"What?"

"Do you remember Jean LeBeau?"

Belle nodded. "Yes, he's the one that imports the French clothes and fabrics for you." He was also her father's age.

"His son, Gaston, is looking for a wife and has asked to court you. They're coming for the wedding and are hoping to find you open to the courtship."

"Papa-"

"I wasn't going to tell you about it. I wanted to see how you two interacted before telling you of his intentions."

"Papa," she pulled out the advertisement and handed it to him. "I've already responded to this."

Her father shifted his spectacles on his nose and read the words. "Not looking for love? Oh Belle. You're worth more than that, my girl."

"But I don't want love, Papa. I want adventure. I want partnership, to be able to work side by side with someone for a common purpose. I've helped you with your merchant business and have loved every minute of it. But Clara is going to help with that now."

"This man has a child, Belle. Do you know how old that child is? What happened to his wife? Where does he live and what will your life be like there?"

She took the ad from her father, carefully refolded it and tucked it back into her pocket. "He hasn't written back yet but the letter was mailed to a small town in Kansas."

"When did you mail it?"

"Just last week."

"Well," he sat down heavily in his chair, "we'll just have to see what the response is. But promise me, you'll at least give Gaston a chance."

Belle remembered Gaston from her childhood days. He and his father had visited her home when business brought them to the port in Maine. She hadn't particularly cared for him then and doubted she would care for him now. But her father's wedding was coming up and Gaston was most likely already on his way. It would take a couple weeks at least to receive a response from the widower in Kansas.

"Alright, Papa. I'll give Gaston a chance but only if you give this man in Kansas a chance as well."

He tried to look stern but a smile crept into the corner of his mouth. "You drive a hard deal, Belle."

"I've learned from the best," she smiled as the deal was struck.

* * *

Jacob Gold knew his son better than he knew himself. For the last month, the fourteen year old had his eyes on the horizon. Bae was a constant babble of words, stories and questions but those words seemed to have dried up recently. There was something that he was hiding and it was making Gold lose sleep at night, causing his hands to shake.

There wasn't much trouble for the boy to find. They were as isolated as they could get, the farthest farm from the small town that was nothing more than a stop on the railroad. Their closest neighbors, the Charmings, lived three miles to the east. And that was the first theory that came to his mind and the most harmless.

David and Mary Margaret Charming had a daughter that was Bae's age, Emma. The two had grown up together, having adventures in the wheat fields and wilds of the Kansas prairie. It wouldn't come as a surprise to him if his boy became smitten with the tomboy but Bae's reactions were not that a young boy in love with the girl next door. He was being too serious, too secretive.

Which brought him to the idea that kept him staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night. Bae wanted more than the farm. He wanted adventure, he wanted to see the world that was beyond this little patch of earth he called home. It caused Gold's heart to drop and his stomach clench in fear. But it was something he should have expected considering the boy's mother and how things played out there.

He hadn't seen much of Bae that day though evidence of him doing chores could be found. When the sun was setting, Gold washed his hands and face at the pump by the barn before heading into the house. The sight that greeting him didn't do anything for his nerves. A meal fit only for Sunday graced the table and even though the scent of freshly baked biscuits and roasted chicken filled the house, it didn't stop the bile from rising in Gold's throat.

"To what do I owe this feast, Bae?"

His son stood unsure behind his chair, gripping the ladder back with white knuckles. "I've done something, Papa. Something that you might not approve of."

He was leaving the farm. It was that simple. He probably already had his train ticket bought. Gold sat heavily in his chair, the food before him turning his stomach. "And what is that, son?"

Bae pulled out a folded bit of newspaper and laid it next to Gold's dinner plate. He retrieved his wire-rimmed spectacles and straightened them on his nose. The newspaper clipping was an advertisement for a mail-order bride, more or less. A widower and his son...Gold pulled his glasses off and slipped them into his shirt pocket.

"Oh, son, tell me you didn't write this."

"I did."

"We don't need anyone here, Bae." He didn't need anyone asking questions, digging up secrets that were best left buried and forgotten.

"Yes, we do." He sat down at the table. "In a few more years, I'll be old enough to get married and start my farm and family. Who will help you then?"

"I'll manage."

"Your knee is getting worse. Besides, it would be nice to have a lady around." He traced a finger along the scratches in the table. "Maybe help me talk to Emma better."

Of all the scenarios that crossed his mind, this was not one of them and the relief he felt brought back his appetite. "Well, maybe no one will answer it."

"Someone did."

A letter appeared next to the advertisement. The script was loopy and extremely feminine. The postmark was from Maine. Gold set down the bowl of mashed potatoes he had reached for and instead picked up the letter. It was still sealed. With a grimace, he put his glasses back on and tore open the envelope. "Well, let's see what you've done."

The letter wasn't that long but still written in an even, steady hand. There was refinement in the letters, education in the use of words. Gold's heart sunk a bit at the hopeful look in Bae's face. But if someone who had grown up in Kansas as Milly had done couldn't find happiness here, then why would someone with education and a taste of the world think they could? Gold cleared his throat and started to read anyway.

_"Dear Mr. Gold and Son,_

_My name is Isabel French, though everyone knows me as Belle. My father and I live in northern Maine, along the coast in a small town called Storybrooke. We are known for a few things, my father's merchant business being one of them. He has a modest fleet of ships that import fantastic things from other countries while sending our mundane things across the sea."_

"That sounds really interesting. I bet she's seen all kinds of things!"

Gold nodded, though with significantly less enthusiasm than his son. _"My father is getting married in about a month and he will have no more need of my assistance with the business as the woman he has chosen has a sharp mind for numbers, much sharper than mine. It is time for me to find my place in this world. Your advertisement seemed to be an opportunity that fitted my desires well._

_"I long for adventure in the wilds of this country. I am unafraid of hard work and you will find me sturdy and stubborn, take that as you may. I have spent many hours on the docks unloading goods and wares. The work that happens on a farm I am not familiar with but I am fast learner. I do hope you will give me a chance. To make a difference is the most important purpose to have in life._

_"I would like to hear about your son and your life in Kansas._

_"Sincerely, _  
_Belle French."_

Bae was looking stunned, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. "Papa, she's perfect."

"No one's perfect, Bae. Now, eat your dinner."

After a few mouthfuls, Bae looked over his father. "So you're not angry at me?"

Gold shook his head. "You'll just have some extra chores to do."

They finished their meal and part of Bae's punishment was to clean up the dinner dishes for two weeks, starting that night. While his son occupied doing that, Gold tucked the letter in his pocket and went out to the barn. As he was throwing hay to the animals and closing the building for the night, he tried to decide if he should respond to the letter or not.

She sounded nice, pleasant enough. From her words, she was no stranger to hard work and had an adventurous spirit in her. But that was the part that worried him the most. This section of the country had plenty of adventure in the way of weather, sick animals and a distinct lack of niceties. It wasn't the adventure that Milly was looking for and it had cost Bae his mother and Gold his wife. He couldn't allow that to happen again.

When he returned to the house, Bae was already in his room, snoring. Gold sat down at the cleared kitchen table, pulling out the letter once more. He read over it again and decided that if this woman was brave enough to answer an advertisement, then he needed to be brave enough to respond to her. Lighting a gas lantern, he retried some paper and a pencil and hoped she would be able to read what passed for his handwriting.

_Dear Ms. French..._


	2. Chapter 2

**The Great Wide Somewhere**

**Chapter Two**

_**Author's Notes: **__I've been getting some questions concerning the time period for this story. It's suppose to be set in the early 1900's. I hope that clears some confusion up._

It was a week before the wedding when Belle received a reply from the Gold's. She had spent the last two days in the company of Gaston LeBeau and was finding him more of a bore than she remembered. When he did speak to her, it was always about himself. She wanted to hear about the countries he visited, he told her only what he did there. She wanted to hear about experiences, he wanted to talk about his exploits.

So when the postman delivered the bundle of envelopes and she saw one with a Kansas postmark, she quickly excused herself to her room. She was suppose to take tea with her father, Mr. LeBeau and Gaston but she had an hour until they were set to meet. Nerves tied up her stomach in a messy bundle as she ran her hand over the careful printing on the front of the letter.

It was possible that he was writing to tell her she wasn't a good fit for him and his son. She had always been forward and outspoken, perhaps he didn't care for a woman such as that. From the stories she had heard that came out of the heartland, she would have to be stout of heart and strong of resolve. But then again, he could be telling her to come as soon as possible because of those traits.

Drawing her legs underneath her as she settled on her window seat, she tore open the letter. Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the plain paper. His handwriting was neat, purposeful and strong. But her smile and nerves quickly dissipated as she started to read the reply.

_Dear Ms. French, _

_I will apologize in advance for allowing you to entertain the thought that we are in need of your assistance to "make a difference." My fourteen year old son, Bae, was the one who composed the advertisement to which you responded. He did this without my knowledge or approval. _

_I do hope you have not made any arrangements concerning travel to Kansas. Your willingness is appreciated though unnecessary. Perhaps it would be best for you and your adventurous spirit to find an another outlet. You sound very intelligent and strong minded, I am certain you will attain your dreams of making a difference in someone else's life. _

_Thank you for your letter and your time. I once again apologize for my son's rash behavior. _

_Jacob Gold_

Belle folded the letter and tried to blink back the tears that were gathering in her eyes. She felt foolish and silly. She liked to think of herself as practical, with a level head. While girls her age were dreaming of knights in shining armor scaling castle walls, she was listening to the merchants tell of real life travels from far off lands.

It wasn't travel that she longed for. She had accompanied her father on the long ocean crossings and found the travel tedious. The foreign lands were strange and left her realizing just how large and different the world could be. She still longed for adventure, but a different kind of adventure. She wanted the adventures found in everyday living.

A knock came from her door and she straightened her dress. "Yes?"

The door opened and her father hesitantly stepped over the threshold. "Everything alright?"

She braved a smile. "Yes. Apparently it was his son who placed the ad, not him."

"Was he kind about it?"

"Oh, yes, very."

"Good." With a cautious look, he pulled out another envelope. "There was a second letter in the bundle."

Belle took it and saw the envelop was already opened. "Reading my mail?"

"Didn't realize it was yours until I opened it, sweet."

Wondering what else there was to say to her, she unfolded the paper. The handwriting was different, less steady but still very legible.

_Dear Belle, _

_I am sorry for writing the ad and making you believe that it was from my father. I know he's going to say he doesn't need anyone but it's not true. We both need someone. My mother died when I was very young and it's just been my Papa and me. It would be nice to have a mother, I think. _

_There's this girl who lives on the next farm over. We've been friends since we could walk and I would like to marry her when we both turn eighteen. I need help to know how to treat her, how to talk to her. So if you don't want to come because of my father, I understand. But maybe, you could come for me? I'm fourteen now so you would only have to stay four years before you got to move on. _

_Please, think about it. _

_Sincerely,_

_Bae_

Her father was looking at the floor. "He sounds like a nice boy."

Belle nodded. "He does."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to have to make your apologies at tea today?"

She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Papa."

He went to her door but paused. "I don't remember Gaston being so tedious."

"I do."

He gave her a solemn nod. "Write your letter well, my girl. Give both of yourselves a way out and above all else-"

"Be diplomatic," she finished.

Her father gave her a proud smile before closing the door behind him. She didn't waste any time settling behind her desk and starting her response to Mr. Jacob Gold. By the time she was done, he would be a fool not to agree to her terms.

* * *

"Papa?"

Gold tossed the flakes of hay to the horses before answering his son. "Yes?"

Bae stepped into the barn and held out a letter. It had been three weeks since the first one had arrived and he had sent his reply. He had hoped that was to be the end of it but judging from the script on the front of the envelope, it wasn't. With a groan, he sat down on a bale of straw, pulled off his gloves and opened the letter. Bae hovered around his shoulder.

"What does she say?"

Gold cleared his throat and started to read. "_Dear Jacob, I understand the feelings you expressed in your letter but hope that you will consider an alternative arrangement. I offer to you the proposition of a two month trial. I will come to your home, work and up hold the typical responsibilities of a wife and mother. At the end of the two months, we will discuss the next step in the arrangement. Either I will stay if you so wish or I will move on to another farm or place of business. _

"_If you still find yourself not being convinced of this deal, then I offer to you the need that your son may have. Since he was the one that wrote the advertisement, he obviously feels the need for a female influence in your lives. This is his request and I suggest you give it some serious thought and discussion with him. _

"_I am open to negotiations of this deal, of course and will await your response._

_Sincerely, _

_Belle." _

Silence hung between father and son as they both contemplated Belle's words. Gold couldn't believe she was still willing to come after his letter. It baffled him to no end and he wondered just what else he could say to discourage her from coming.

"Well," Bae said slowly, "she did warn us that she's stubborn."

"That she did."

"It's would only be for two months."

"Bae, she can't come here."

"Why not?"

Gold held up the letter. "How old do you think she is? Her father is getting remarried and she either wants to leave or is being asked to leave. Or, she's running from something. None of those are good reasons to come out here and play house for two months only to leave again. I guarantee she's barely twenty, if that. What if you get attached to her?"

"What if _you_ get attached to her? Why won't you let her come? She wants to come here, I want her to come here. Why won't you give her a chance?"

Gold stood up and put his hands on Bae's shoulders. The boy was almost in tears, desperate and frustrated. "Why is this so important to you?"

"I just want us to be a whole family. I go over to the Charmings and it's...different over there. I want that here. I want to have a mother that I can remember. I want to see you smile again."

He wrapped his arms around his son, hugging him close. "Oh Bae, that can't happen in only two months. What the Charmings have is something special, something that was years in the making. Not everyone finds that kind of happiness and it's good to be around those who do."

"But I want that here, in our home."

"I know, son. I know. But sometimes life just doesn't work out the way you want it." It was a harsh lesson to learn, one he shouldn't have to learn at such a young age.

"Please, Papa. Give her a chance. She asked for two months, I think we should give it to her." Bae pulled out of his father's embrace and even offered a watery smile. "If it doesn't work out, Dr. Whale in town is still looking for a wife."

Gold grimaced. "She would have to burn the barn and house down before I turn her over to Whale."

"So that means you'll let her come?"

There was so much hope in Bae's face, more than he had seen in a long time. And he would have promised to bring down the moon for him at that moment if it meant seeing his son happy. "Two months, Bae. She'll have two months."

His son whooped, almost knocked him over when he hugged him before tearing out of the barn. Gold hoped this wasn't going to end up being a serious mistake that would scar his son. His own heart he could guard against but Bae didn't know how to do that yet. He would just have to explain the situation to Belle when she arrived, that the only deal breaker for him was his son's happiness and if he felt that was in danger, she would find herself back on the train to Maine once more.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Great Wide Somewhere**

**Chapter Three**

Everything passed in a blur for Belle. She had been extremely direct with Gaston concerning her plans to go to Kansas. He handled it well enough and that assured her that his heart wasn't in the courtship. They had parted ways amicably and before she knew it, she was waving goodbye to her father as he left for a honeymoon in Europe. And now, she was on a train to the midland.

She re-read the letters that Jacob and Bae had sent her. Bae's letters brought a smile to her face and lightened her heart. Judging from his earnest words, he was going to be a lovable tornado of a boy. There was a kindness to his desires, a sadly tinged hope of having someone to call mother eventually. Having lost her own mother at a young age, she understood that longing deeply.

But Jacob's letters left her uneasy. He wasn't unkind but he wasn't open either. She had been present for business dealings since she could stand on her own feet and reading between the lines of a conversation was a skill she had developed. Jacob had secrets, that much was obvious, and there was hurt and distrust that had grown up around him. He was doing this for his son, nothing more. She hope she could make a difference in his life, she was certain she could, if he would let her.

No matter how she tried to keep her eyes open, eventually, she failed. The train ride from Maine to Kansas was exhausting. Belle had tried to stay awake for most of the journey but once the landscape changed from rolling hills to flat plains, weariness won the day. It was with a wrinkled dress and gritty eyes that she emerged on the platform of the town Enchanted.

Once she had a better look at the town, she found it could barely be called that. There was one main road where places of business sat on either side. From where she was standing, she could see a mercantile, a saloon, a feed store, post office and steeple of a church. And if that wasn't enough to make her feel uneasy, then the couple of men in dusty overalls grinning at her finished the job.

Without further ado, she marched herself into the station and promptly bought a return ticket home. She didn't know if she would ever use it but it would show good faith on her end of the bargain with Jacob Gold. Two months and she would return home. If he decided to allow her to stay, she could always return it for cash if it came to that. It was completely plausible that he wouldn't he even show at the station.

"Miss French?"

She turned to see a man of slight stature, with light brown hair threaded with gray that brushed his shoulders. He was standing awkwardly, hat in hand and brown eyes lowered to his dusty shoes. Surely this couldn't be man who had written the well worded, although brief, letters to her. Shy was not a word that came to her mind when she remembered his written words. "Mr. Gold, I presume."

"Yes, ma'am."

She took off her travel gloves and extended her hand. It was not the most lady like thing to do but her father taught her the best way to gauge a man was through his handshake. When Gold took her hand, his grip was firm but brief, his palm slightly sweaty. Nervous but honest. "Well, now that we have officially met, no more 'ma'am' and Miss French. My name is Belle."

"Jacob, then." He still wouldn't look her in the eye. "Your trunk?"

"Right there," she pointed to the one nearest to the door but then wondered how he was going to lift it when a tall, broad shouldered man hefted it up with little trouble and carried it out. He was dressed much finer than the farmers surrounding him. "Who is-"

"That's Jefferson Hassett. He tends to like to lurk about and stare at the new arrivals," Gold said quietly as they stepped out of the small building that was the station. "He owns the mercantile but he's more known for his unusual hats in there."

"Hats?"

"Oh yes, little poppet," Jefferson turned with a flourish. "Hats of all shapes and sizes for any and all occasions! Stop by around tea time for an extra treat. My daughter, Grace, is always looking for another guest at the table."

Belle smiled and nodded. "I will keep that offer in mind, Mr. Hassett."

He gave her a crooked grin. "Much obliged, Miss French."

She allowed him to help her up on the buckboard as Jacob settled in the driver's seat and picked up the reins. She managed to pull out her parasol before the horses lurched forward and she almost lost her balance. Gold reached out to steady her but quickly withdrew his hand when he saw she had anchored herself.

"My apologies, Miss French."

She emitted a shaky laugh and opened the parasol, the lest frilly one she owned. "Quite alright. I'm not used to an open carriage. It throws one's balance a bit. And it's Belle."

He started to say something else, most likely apologize again before he settled for a close lipped nod. She knew he wasn't going to be very welcoming but they would have to learn how to be civil towards each other. She figured the best way to get him to open up was to ask about his son.

"So, where's Bae?"

"Back at the house." There was the briefest flicker of a smile. "He wanted to straighten things up before your arrival."

She smiled at that, thankful at least one of them was looking forward to her arrival.

* * *

Jacob Gold didn't like being lied to. Belle French had described herself as "sturdy," "used to hard work" and "and just shy of pretty." He had expected a stout, homely matron based on her letters. He was not expecting the beautiful creature that was waiting for him. Thick, glossy auburn curls were pinned underneath a fancy hat, blue sparkling eyes and skin that looked like it hadn't seen much sun. She could sit on the porch of their little house and brighten up the entire farm. Not to mention she didn't look a day over twenty.

He snapped the reins harder than normal. Every time he looked over and caught sight of her perfect profile, her dimpled grin, he was reminded just how this wouldn't work. She wasn't use to farm work. It would destroy her dainty bearing, not to mention her fine clothes. No, she wouldn't last two months, two weeks perhaps.

"So," she broke into his thoughts, "Mr. Hassett spoke of a daughter. Is there a Mrs. Hassett?"

Jefferson Hassett, of course she would be interested in him. Tall, dashing and young. If he was honest with himself, she was a better match to Hassett than him any day. "There was a Mrs. Hassett. Alice, was her name. She died a few years back due to fever."

"That's terrible. How old is Grace?"

"She's a couple years younger than Bae."

Belle worried her lip. "Poor girl. Perhaps, once I get settled, I could take him up on his offer?"

She was asking his permission to return to town and take tea with the Hassetts and he suddenly found himself tongue tied. He was used to Bae asking permission to do things but a woman? Milly never asked permission for anything, she only told him what she was doing. And that was on the days when she felt obliging.

"If you would prefer I don't, I completely understand."

His mouth felt like it was filled with dust but he tried to talk through it. "No, that's fine." Once he was able to get those words out, more came a little easier. "I need to go into town for supplies every couple of weeks. You can visit while I pick them up."

"Thank you."

He was uncomfortable with her looking to him for permission and thanking him for granting it. No one looked up to him for anything. It was unnerving. "We, uh, we don't have much."

"That's fine."

"The house, it's not that large."

"I'm not taking anyone's room, am I?"

"No, nothing like that." Towards the end, Milly had turned the spinning room into her bedroom and had slept there instead of with him. She was gone before Bae had even noticed a difference in the sleeping arrangements. "There's a small room off of the kitchen. That will be yours, if you'll have it. If not, I'm sure we can come to other arrangements."

She resolutely shook her head. "It'll be perfect, I'm sure."

Well, she would know about perfection. He gripped the reins in white knuckles and set his eyes on the horizon. Her trunk, her clothes, her umbrella, everything spoke to her way of life. She was cultured and refined, used to the elegance of a high class woman. Belle French was what Milly Gold wanted to be which left his stomach turning.

He hoped against all hope that Bae would not get attached to Belle. Let her go off and marry someone like Jefferson, that would be best for all of them. Perhaps he should turn around and drop her off at the mercantile right now, save them all some heartache.

Belle shifted on the hard wood of the wagon and huffed slightly. "Look, we're going to have to be sociable to each other. It might be easier if we got to know each other a little. Won't you let me get to know you?"

He glanced over at her briefly and quickly cut his eyes back to the road. If he stared at her pleading blue eyes he would give in to her request. "There's not much to know really."

"I find that hard to believe."

"You won't after a few days." He saw the peeked roof of the house break the horizon and took a deep breath. "There's home."

She sat up straighter, craning her neck for a better view. "It looks lovely."

"You're being too kind," he muttered, not sure if she was being condescending or truthful. The roof was in need of repair and it was in need of a fresh coat of paint.

She shot him a sidelong glance but she didn't say anything else. It was hard not to notice the smile that was creeping across her face as they drew closer to the house. Bae was pacing the length of the porch, dressed in the cleanest clothes he had. When he noticed the buckboard pulling up to the house, he settled himself, standing at the foot of the porch steps and waiting.

Gold watched the surprise and wonder that came over his son's face when Bae finally saw Belle clearly. It was most likely exactly like the look Gold himself had when he first laid eyes on her. The sheer wonder at how someone so lovely would choose to be here with them. He sincerely hoped his son wouldn't get attached but one look at that awestruck face and Gold was certain Bae was already calling her "mama" in his mind.

"You must be Bae." Belle closed her parasol and allowed the fourteen-year-old to help her down from her seat. "You are much handsomer than you described."

"And you're so beau-"

"Bae!" Gold reprimanded and pointed the trunk. "Let's get Miss French settled, shall we?"

He seemed to have a problem leaving Belle's side but eventually he made it over to the back of the wagon and grasped one of the handles of the trunk. "Sorry, Papa."

Gold gave him a brief smile. "It's alright." He had almost said the same thing to her, how could he fault his son for speaking the truth. Together they managed to move the trunk into what was Belle's room. Gold gave the room a quick look and found Bae had done well with straightening it up. Even though it pained Gold, he brought out the quilt Milly had received from her mother as wedding gift and put it on Belle's bed. Bae had even set out the set of silver candlesticks that had been Milly's as well and placed on them on the small dresser. He hoped it would met her approval and then wondered why it even mattered to him. A floor board creaked and he saw Belle standing in the doorway.

"Just what I thought," she gave a stern nod. "It's lovely."

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't ignore the beaming smile on his son's face and he prayed to any god that would listen to make sure this wasn't a mistake.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Great Wide Somewhere**

**Chapter Four**

Belle was so thankful when the sun dipped below the horizon and it was time to retire for the night. The journey on the train had left her weary and the ride on the buckboard made her sore. And as if that wasn't enough, her emotions were frayed from Jacob's sullenness and Bae's cheerfulness. If it wasn't for their eyes and mannerisms, Belle wouldn't have believed they were father and son.

She stared at the dark beams above her head as she replayed the days events. Jacob and Bae had showed her around the farm, Jacob leading the way while Bae chattered nonstop. The barn sat about fifty yards from the house and had a couple horses, milk cows and a few pigs. Chickens roamed free between the barn and the house though the hen house was nestled against the barn. There was a smoke house behind the main house that was stocked with cured pork, bacon and some beef.

Dinner was an uncomfortable affair though. The stew was good and Belle tried to poke at the vegetables to see which ones were used for when she would have make it. But no matter how hard she tried to start a conversation with Jacob, his responses were limited to one word replies. Bae seemed to follow his father's lead and took more interest in his food, though he at least smiled at her from time to time.

But when she finally closed the door to her room and climbed into bed, no matter how hard she tried to fall asleep, it just wouldn't happen. The bed, comfortable enough, wasn't hers. The house settled differently around her and there were no waves crashing outside her window, letting her know the sea was always there for comfort.

The moon rose and moved its way over the wheat fields. By the time it reached its zenith, she could clearly hear Bae's snores coming from the second floor. She tried to listen for any sounds coming from Jacob's room but couldn't distinguish any. Perhaps he was just as unsettled as she was.

Deciding sleep wasn't going to come anytime soon, Belle got up and put on her dressing gown over the cotton shift nightgown. She opened her trunk and retrieved a couple of books she brought with her. When Jacob had agreed to allow her to come, she had started spending more time in the kitchen with the cook. She had learned the basic skills, such as how to maintain the heat for cooking and baking and how to keep embers burning through the night so the stove wouldn't be cold come morning.

Once she had learned the mechanics of the stove, she learned how to fix coffee, make a soup stock, bake bread and other simple meals. There was no place for her to learn how to farm but she was determined to come with some skills, such as cooking and cleaning.

Her father's household had thought she had lost her mind when she drug a copper tub outdoors and began laundering her own clothes. She had experimented on old rags first and worked her way up to her Sunday dress. Even the maids had been impressed at her skill. But doing those things back home were different than trying them here. If she ruined a dress in Maine, she could easily replace it. She didn't have the luxury here.

There were many luxuries she didn't have here, but that was what made it an adventure. When she stepped out of her room, she found a gas lantern sitting on the kitchen table with a box of matches next to it. She set her books down and lit the lantern, wondering if it was Bae or Jacob who left it out for her. Bae was the most likely candidate but the thought of Jacob doing it warmed her heart. Perhaps he wasn't as cold hearted as he made himself out to be.

But Jacob was a hard one to read, something Belle usually didn't struggle with doing. He had been polite, quiet and had agreed to her two month visit. But he was distant, shy in a withdrawn sense and she wondered just how thick the walls were that he hid behind. He let them down for Bae, she had caught a couple of brief smiles between his worried and concerned glances. He loved his son, and his son loved him so he was capable of letting people in. She just had to find her own way around his defenses.

And what better way than through food. She opened the books and started searching through the recipes. There were notes and comments made by both the cook back home and herself. She tried to fight down the uneasiness of having to cook on an unfamiliar stove with no guidance. But she could do this, she was certain, and she would start easy. Turning to the front page, she pulled out the instructions on how to make coffee. The sun would be up by the time she found everything and figured out how to brew it but at least she would be starting her new life here on the proper foot.

And if she burnt the first batch, she could toss it out and start fresh without anyone knowing.

Gold couldn't sleep. His thoughts were constantly at odds with each other from one moment to the next.

What could he do to make sure Belle would be back on the train in two months?

What could he do to make sure she would stay with them?

He tried to think of ways to make her feel unwelcome, but realized he didn't have it in him to drive her off with cruelty. But perhaps, he could scare her with the work load. There was so much that needed to be done around the farm that a day of mending fences, plowing a field and caring for the animals might be enough to send her packing. But the thought of her being too stiff to move and in pain the following days or possibly even hurting herself quickly dissolved that plan.

Her eyes had lit up at the all the animals which made him wonder if she would have the heart to kill a chicken to feed them. Would she throw herself in front of a pig or cow that was going to be butchered? But then she would be upset, crying even if she was that tenderhearted. He remembered Bae having to learn that harsh lesson when he was a young boy and tears that had been shed, ripping at his heart. He didn't think he could handle seeing Belle's blue eyes red with grief either.

Sleep would not be coming to him that night, he realized, so he tossed the blankets off and sat on the side of the bed, gazing out the window for a few quiet moments. Dawn was just starting to lighten the horizon, not properly breaking yet. The farm was quiet except for Bae's snoring and some movement downstairs. Apparently Belle was having trouble sleeping as well.

As he pulled on his shirt, he realized there was nothing he could do to drive Belle away or convince her to stay. The decision was to be hers at the end of the two months. Once again, he was too cowardly to act on a plan that would force her to go or stay. A bitter taste rose in his mouth. It was his farm, his family and it was up to a stranger to determine what their lives were going to be at the end of this trial period.

Gold paused by Bae's bedroom. If the boy's own mother couldn't find it in her heart to stay with them, then what in the world would convince Belle to do it? It certainly wouldn't be him. Gold figured she was only half his age, which wasn't unheard of in the midwest with the homesteaders, but he was also well on his way to being a cripple. Doc Whale had told him he should be walking with a stick while out in the fields and that plowing was becoming more and more of a risk each time he did it. One more good twist to his bad knee and there would be no healing it completely.

When he came downstairs, Belle was in the kitchen, dressed in a much simpler outfit then her traveling attire and pinning up her hair as she watched the coffee pot with such intensity. The more he looked upon her, the more beautiful she became. Milly didn't want the future that he was destined to have and he couldn't really blame her. Once Belle saw the kind of life she would have to endure, she would leave as well. He would just have to make sure that Bae would be happy with whatever happened.

So, perhaps the problem wasn't with convincing Belle to go or stay but to make sure Bae didn't become attached to her, which was easier said than done. But he could do it, he could keep them separate for two months so no attachments formed. He would explain things to Bae when it was just the two of them working. His son's happiness was the utmost importance and he would see to it that Belle would do nothing to tarnish that joy.

Gold cleared his throat but it still startled Belle, who almost dropped her book. She recovered quickly enough.

"Do you normally get up this early?" she asked, putting the final pin in her hair.

Gold shook his head. "Not quite this early. We usually get up with the sun. Winter time is different though since it's dark longer." He sat down at the kitchen table and rubbed his knee. It was always stiff in the morning chill. "Do you normally rise this early?"

She gave him a dimpled smile that he tried not to return. "I'm used to rising at all hours, really. My schedule was set by my father's ships. Dependent on the weather, some would arrive at seven in the morning, some as early as three."

"And what was the purpose to be at the docks at three in the morning?"

"I took inventory for my Papa. My mother used to do it for him but when she died, I took her place. As soon as I could read the inventory lists, that is." She set down a cup in front of him and poured the coffee into it. "This is my first time making coffee without any guidance so consider yourself warned."

It couldn't be any worse than the concoction that he and Bae had whipped up. And Milly's heart was never in her cooking. She would draw or day dream the time away and everything was scorched or had some ingredient left out of it. He took a tentative sip and had to keep a neutral look on his face. It was the best cup of coffee he had ever tasted.

"Well?" Belle asked, still holding the coffee pot, a worried look on her face.

Gold tried to shrug it off, tell her it was just okay but her expression wrung the truth out of him. "Best I've had in years."

The smile she gave him was radiant and his chest constricted painfully. It was still her first day and already she cared more than Milly ever had. The thought frightened him as much as it thrilled him. He finished the coffee and waved her off from re-filling it.

"Later. I'll get a head start on the chores." In truth, the more he moved around on his bad leg, the less pronounced his limp would be. "I'll bring in some eggs for breakfast."

Belle seemed to blanche at the suggestion but reached for her stack of cookbooks. "I'll be ready for them."

Maybe she would last the two months. Maybe she would grow to be comfortable in his home. Maybe she would choose to stay. Deciding it was too early to determine and too much to ask of fate to be kind to him, Gold made his way out to the barn just as the sun was starting to peek over the horizon.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Great Wide Somewhere**

**Chapter Five**

Belle was convinced of one thing by the end of her first day – men, left to themselves, where no better at cleanliness than an untrained animal.

With the benefit of bright sunlight, she could see the areas of neglect throughout the house. The corners were dusty, the linens were musty and there was a very bare feeling to the home due to a lack of personal affects. It seemed her room held the only warmth in the entire house. The quilt on her bed was handmade with a painstaking eye to detail but it was barely used. As far as she could tell, candles had never been burned in the shiny, silver candlesticks that were sitting on the beautiful lace runner on her dresser.

But there was also a beautiful spinning wheel sitting in the corner of her room. It was coated with dust and she was certain that its mechanism would be seized from disuse. But when she trailed her fingers over the spokes, the wheel moved smoothly and silently. She touched the tip of the needle and found it to be quite sharp. Why would Jacob Gold keep a well maintained spinning wheel but not use it? It was a mystery for certain.

Jacob had even fewer words for her that day and he kept Bae by his side the majority of the time. The poor boy kept sending her pleading looks, as if he would rather be helping her with household chores than being with his father in the barn. But she always waved to him while she was beating a rug in the morning or hanging laundry in the afternoon sun.

Lunch was just as quiet as breakfast and Belle wondered if it was a family tradition to keep peace while eating. Not wanting to change any of their habits, she kept quiet but remembered, with a pang of homesickness, the spirited conversations that took place around her dining room table at home. Her father had insisted that lively discussion helped digestion.

She didn't want to disrupt their routine but as she set the table for dinner, the questions that she had stockpiled during the day wouldn't stay closed up inside her for long. She had always been curious by nature, something that her father encouraged so stemming questions at dinner would be a challenge. Perhaps Jacob wouldn't be opposed to one or two minor inquiries while they ate. She wouldn't know unless she tried.

Jacob and Bae came in as the sun was just beginning to touch the horizon. Belle was pleased with herself as she set out bowls of hot, albeit leftover, stew. The floors were scrubbed, the carpets beaten and what little things they did have, were dusted and gleaming in their places. Tomorrow she would have to cook dinner with no help but she wouldn't let that cast a shadow on her small triumphs of the day.

"Did you find everything alright?" Jacob asked after they were all seated.

Belle tried not to fidget in her chair. Finally, the door had been opened for them to talk around the table. "Yes, I did. Thank you."

She waited a couple minutes to see if anything was going to be said but both Bae and Jacob seemed too interested in their food. But Jacob had spoken first so she took that as permission to ask some of the questions that had been swirling around in her mind.

"I found a couple of very interesting things today."

Bae took more interest in her statement than Jacob. "Like what?"

"Well, I found a very well-played-with leather ball upstairs that could do with some patchwork."

Bae perked up even more at that. "You can fix it? Really?"

"I can try."

"Do you think you could fix it by tomorrow, before Emma comes over?"

"Bae!" Jacob scolded but Belle smiled instead.

"I'll try."

Bae still looked sheepish but after a few spoonfuls of food, his infraction was completely forgotten. "So what other interesting things did you find today?"

Belle poked at her own stew. "The spinning wheel in my room is lovely. I'd like to hear the story behind it."

Jacob dropped his spoon on the table and stood up. "I'll go close up the barn."

Before Belle could stop him, apologize for over-stepping some kind of unknown boundary, the screen door slammed shut. She looked helplessly back at Bae, who was staring into his bowl. Suddenly she wasn't so hungry either.

"It was my mother's."

Belle nodded slowly. "I'm sorry."

"Papa doesn't talk about her."

"Do you remember her?"

"Not really. She died when I was four."

"And your father doesn't speak of her at all?"

Bae shook his head. "He packed up all her things and locked them away. He said he wanted to forget."

"The quilt and candlesticks. You should have those things, Bae. I can find another blanket to use."

"No, I want you to use them. That's why I pulled them out of the trunk."

Belle knew Bae's hopes, he had written about them in his letters. He was looking for mother, someone to fill that hole that had been left for the majority of his life. But she couldn't allow him to have false hope.

"Bae, it's going to be up to your father whether or not I can stay after two months." She thought of Jacob's silences and ways of keeping everyone out except for his son. "It may not work. We won't know until the two months has ended."

"But you'll stay for the two months?"

"Of course."

Bae smiled. "Then at least I can have a Mama for two months."

* * *

Gold had been on edge all day. He had watched Belle French clean rugs and hang up laundry like she belonged in his home. She smiled while doing the most mundane of chores. She had food ready whenever they went into the house. She greeted them warmly, changed the atmosphere of their house into the closest thing to a home.

He leaned heavily on one of the stall doors. One day and she made herself a part of their lives already. Bae was already looking at her as if she had magic. Maybe she did, maybe she had enchanted them, making them accept her so soon. What other reason could there be for her quick assimilation into their lives?

"Jacob?"

Gold pushed himself away from the stall door and reached for a few flakes of hay, tossing them in to the horse. "Yes."

Belle stepped into the darkened barn, careful of where she was stepping in the half light. "I'm sorry for earlier. I didn't know."

Bae must have told her, about the spinning wheel and the mother he didn't remember. "That's fine."

She was quiet but still standing there, worrying her lip. Finally, after a few moments, she spoke again. "I lost my mother when I was very young too. It helped me to have my father tell me stories of my mother, help me remember the woman she was. I don't mean to overstep my place but perhaps it would do Bae some good if you were to talk about his mother with him."

Gold ground his teeth together and tossed more hay into the remaining stalls. Belle had no idea what had gone on between him and Milly. She had no idea the strife and unhappiness that plagued his house while Milly was here. Belle's mother most likely wanted to be a mother, loved Belle with all her heart and made that obvious. He tried to remind himself of that before he spoke and his anger made itself known.

"Bae is better off not knowing."

"That can't be true."

"It is."

"Every child deserves a chance to know their mother."

His anger was starting to rise. Who was she to come into his home and tell him what his son needed? "Some children are better off not knowing the truth of certain matters."

She stepped forward in the twilight, her eyes overly bright. "Bae wants to know about his mother. He wants to know your memories of her. He wants to know that she loved him."

"And what if she didn't?" He turned on her then, his temper getting the better of him. How dare she assume she knew what was best after only one day of being in his home. "Should he know that, Ms. French? Should I subject him to that truth?"

She looked shocked and hurt, her eyes glassing over and her mouth hanging open in shock. "How? How could a mother not love her child?"

Gold upended a bucket of feed for the chickens. It was a question he had been asking himself for the last ten years. As was his routine, he closed the top door of the stalls on one side of the barn and when he reached other side, Belle had already closed them for him. She met him with a chin held high and emotions in check.

"I am sorry for bringing up the subject of Bae's mother. I won't bring it up again." Her resolve softened slightly. "If you would like to speak about it though-"

"I won't."

"Very well then." She nodded sharply and turned on her heel, marching out of the barn.

He followed her, closing the main doors and heading back up the house. When he stepped through the door, she was already sitting at the kitchen table, angrily trying to stitch up Bae's worn ball. His son was no where to be seen.

"Bae?"

"In bed already," she answered shortly.

He had to do something with his hands. His temper now receded, leaving his fingers trembling and restless. He settled for pouring a glass of milk from the icebox. "We're going to have guests tomorrow."

Belle looked up from her work. "Guests? How many? When?"

"Just neighbors. The family who lives down the road a ways."

"Emma's family, then."

Gold nodded. "Yes. David and Mary Margaret Charming. They know you've just arrived so don't worry about preparing much of anything. Mary Margaret tends to bring enough food for a small army whenever she visits."

Belle went back to patching the ball. "They'll expect something though. What time are they coming?"

"After lunch most likely."

"Tea then." She tugged her stitches on the fabric patch and broke the thread with her teeth. "I can try my hand at baking some scones then."

"Scones?"

"They're a kind of sweet bread, a biscuit of sorts. The British eat them with their afternoon tea."

And once again he was reminded of just how well traveled, how well educated she was. It was going to be Milly all over again. Belle would get frustrated with the mundane everyday life that she was going to be faced with here. She would turn on him, just as Milly had. And she would run off into the great, wide somewhere looking for her adventure and leave devastation in her wake. History was going to repeat itself and as he watched her present the newly mended ball for Bae with a pleased smile, he knew it was inevitable.

Perhaps David would have some advice for him tomorrow on how to handle the upcoming train wreck.


	6. Chapter 6

**Great Wide Somewhere**

**Chapter 6**

Belle had spent the majority of the morning day dreaming about how perfect the tea was going to be when Jacob's neighbors arrived. She would have a plate stacked with freshly made scones, a choice of three different kinds of teas that she had brought with her from home and she would make the best impression on Jacob's friends. Bae seemed just as excited as she was as she watched him dart around the yard and barn, working to finish off the chores before lunch. Jacob was his quiet, preoccupied self.

But by the time the Charmings arrived in the early afternoon, all of Belle's daydreams had gone up in smoke, literally. She emerged from the house to greet the trio with soot smeared across her cheek, flour dusting her dress and smoke still making its way out of the kitchen windows. There was nothing to be done with them standing in the front yard, so she did her best to keep her head high as she went out to greet them.

David Charming looked much like his name, tall and ruddy complected with an easy air about him. His wife, Mary Margaret was a sweet looking woman, her long black hair intricately plaited and smile warm. Bae and Emma were already halfway across the yard, playing with the newly mended ball. Belle felt even more self conscious when Jacob looked at her questioningly and she hoped she hadn't embarrassed him by her appearance.

"Should I be concerned for my house?" Jacob asked quietly.

"Minor mishap," Belle whispered back. "Nothing to worry about."

There was a wisp of a smile, brief and fleeting. "Alright then. David, Mary Margaret, this is Belle French."

She smiled as the couple smiled back, not at all affronted at her state of disarray. In fact, Mary Margaret stepped forward and put her hand on Belle's arm.

"I almost burnt down the kitchen my first week in the home."

David laughed. "I had to buy a new stove and repaint the kitchen three times that first year."

Belle looked slightly stricken but Mary Margaret slipped her arm through Belle's. "I have learned from my mistakes and am more than willing to share that information." She gave Belle a half grin. "If it's welcome."

Belle squeezed the woman's arm. "It is more than welcome."

"Good." Mary Margaret went back to the buckboard and started pulling out baskets, handing them to Belle. "Until then, this should hold you over until you're settled and comfortable here."

Jacob had been right. Mary Margaret had brought enough food to keep them fed for a week. Once the food had been removed, Jacob and David moved the horse and buckboard down to the barn as Mary Margaret just beamed at her.

"It's so nice to have someone to visit with now." Mary Margaret lead the way into the house and set down her baskets on the table. "David and I would try to stop over at least once a month to make sure that there was food in the house and that Jacob and Bae were eating. I am not ashamed to admit that I used Emma as my personal spy. She always let me know when the pantry was getting bare."

She moved around the kitchen as if it was her own and Belle just stood there in awe. Mary Margaret banked the fire in the stove, dropped the burnt scones into a slop bucket and opened the windows wider, pulling back the curtains. With that done, she started pulling the food out of the baskets and putting things in the icebox or pantry. Belle started unpacking the baskets she had brought in and found a jar of pickles, canned peaches, green beans, carrots and applesauce. Not quite sure where to put them, she left them on the table and watched where Mary Margaret placed them.

"Here is some fried chicken for your dinner tonight," Mary Margaret held up a covered plate before putting it in the ice box. "There should be enough for lunch tomorrow as well. The canned fruits and vegetables should go in the pantry for winter time. I try to make a little extra because with just Jacob doing all the work around here, I know it's hard for him to keep up the garden. And come to think of it, I don't even know if he knows how to can things."

Belle sat down at the table, holding one of the glass jars in her hands. She felt so woefully unprepared for the task in front of her. Preparing for winter, even though it was months away, made her nervous about just how much she didn't know. "I don't know how to can things either."

"It's not that hard, trust me. If I can learn it, anyone can."

"Who taught you?"

Mary Margaret produced a plate sweet rolls and put them on the table. "Granny Lucas. She lives a little closer to town. She and her granddaughter run a dry goods store and she's always willing to help with cooking or sewing questions for young brides."

Belle's eyes widened at the word bride and Mary Margaret immediately backpedaled.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to imply-"

But the shock of hearing the word applied to her had worn off already. "No, it's fine. I guess I never thought that if I stay past the two months, then that would mean I would be a bride."

"Is that what Jacob wants?" Mary Margaret sat down in the chair closest to Belle. "I only ask because for as long as David and I have known him, he never showed any interest in marrying again. Especially with what happened before."

Belle shook her head. "I don't know what Jacob wants honestly. He only let me come here because Bae wanted it and he's not exactly very open about things."

Mary Margaret smiled sadly. "Yes, I'm afraid David is the only person that Jacob considers a friend."

"So what did happen to Bae's mother?" Belle knew it wasn't a polite question but Jacob's words had haunted her all night, about how he believed Bae's mother never loved her son. It just didn't seem possible to her that a mother could feel no affection for their child. But if she hadn't had any love for her own child, how must she had treated her husband? Did she hold any affection for him?

Mary Margaret bit her lip. "I shouldn't have said anything. I don't really know what happened."

"What was her name, at least."

"Milly. Her name was Milly. One day she was here and the next she was gone."

"Did she and Jacob love each other?"

Mary Margaret looked sad. "Only Jacob would be able to answer that. I only met her a few times before she died."

"What was she like?"

"She was quiet. I don't think...I don't think she liked being here."

Belle knew the subject was an uneasy one and Mary Margaret had been more than obliging. "Thank you for telling me. Jacob refuses to talk about her and Bae doesn't remember her."

"Perhaps, that's for the best."

And perhaps she was right so Belle changed tactics. "So what is Jacob like? He's seems so quiet."

"He is. He's always been that way." Mary Margaret stood up and checked the fire in the pot bellied stove. "But he's a good man. We had a lighting strike at our barn a few years ago and he and Bae came the next day and helped us rebuild. He is quiet and keeps to himself, but he had a good heart. He has to, look at how Bae is."

Belle had to admit that was a very good point. Getting up from the table, Belle retrieved the three tins of tea and set them out for Mary Margaret to choose what she wanted. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind helping pick some wildflowers to brighten up the house."

Mary Margaret smiled brightly. "That's a wonderful idea. I know the perfect place."

* * *

Gold unhooked the horse from the buckboard and led him to an empty stall in the barn. David pulled the one basket that was left in the back of the wagon and put it on one of the hay bales before sitting on another one.

"Mary Margaret made those sweet rolls that you liked."

"I'll have to thank her for them." Gold wandered around the barn, not sure how to begin speaking of his concerns over Belle. He and David had been friends ever since the newlyweds had bought the land next to his. Emma was thirteen now, so it was almost fourteen years ago. He was the closest thing to a friend that Gold had but he had always felt intimidated by the other man. It was his youth, his health, the near perfect family and love that he had access to everyday. Gold was middle-aged, on the fast track to become a cripple with a dead wife whose last words were a declaration of love for another man.

"Miss French seems like a nice woman," David stated. "How has it been so far?"

Gold leaned against the stall door. "She is very nice. Not well versed in the working of a farm."

David laughed. "Or a stove. She seems eager to learn though. That'll go a long way."

Gold had to laugh at that too. He had felt sorry for Belle when she had emerged from the house covering in soot and flour, pieces of her hair curling around her face. The situation would be so much easier if she wasn't so beautiful and so kind. "I don't know if she'll last the two months though."

"She seems hearty enough."

Gold sat down on a tack trunk and absently rubbed his knee. "She's very well educated. Her father is a merchant, runs an import business in Maine. She's seen so much. She's well travelled."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

He folded his hands and stared at the ground. He wasn't sure just how much David knew about what happened with Milly. As far as he knew, only Sheriff Graham and Killian Jones had the facts. The less people knew the better. But David needed to know part of the story for him to understand Gold's feelings about Belle and the disaster that was coming.

"Milly wasn't happy here. She didn't want to be a wife or a mother and she really didn't want to live on a farm."

David was quiet for a few heartbeats before speaking. "What did she want?"

Gold shook his head. "Adventure. She wanted to see other places, travel."

"Wait," David sat up straight. "Milly didn't die, she ran away?"

Gold closed his eyes. He could still hear the crack of her head on the stone fireplace, still see the blood on his hands as he had tried to undo what he had done. "No," he managed hoarsely, "she is dead."

David settled back on the bale of hay. "You're worried that Belle is going to be like Milly and want to leave."

Gold nodded. "Bae's already smitten with her."

"Emma will be heartbroken to hear that."

Gold gave him a startled look but David, though jovial, was still serious.

"I understand your concern but she's only been here for two days. You've given her two months to get adjusted. Besides, if she has seen as much as you think, she knows what the world has to offer. This may be the adventure she was looking for."

"But what if it's not?"

"Then she leaves."

Gold's stomach knotted unpleasantly.

David smiled slowly. "It looks like Bae isn't the only one smitten."

"Don't be ridiculous." Gold shifted uncomfortably on the trunk. "I'm too old for that nonsense."

"You keep telling yourself that, Jacob."

Gold glanced out the open barn door and saw Mary Margaret and Belle strolling through the fields, picking flowers. They were chatting and laughing, both radiant in the afternoon sun. It would be so easy to fall into the day dream that Belle was here to stay. The he was her adventure. Maybe David was right and he was smitten with her already.

It was a disaster for certain.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Great Wide Somewhere**

**Chapter Seven**

Belle stood on the porch and waved goodbye to the Charming's as they returned home. Mary Margaret had been so kind to share with her little bits of information on just what the responsibilities were to be hers on the Gold farm.

She had assured Belle that Jacob's silences were to be considered a gift and not an insult. He was letting her find her own place and not forcing her into something she didn't want to do. Now, with that understanding in her mind, she couldn't stop grinning. It was a relief to not be pigeon-holed into what someone thought was a "woman's place."

"It seems Mary Margaret's visit was well received," Jacob said from his seat on the porch steps.

"She's a very warm woman. I can't imagine anyone not getting along with her."

Jacob laughed slightly and stretched out his knee. "Wait till you meet Regina."

"Who?"

"Regina Mills, she runs the town."

Belle joined him on the step. "A woman runs the town? How fascinating!"

Jacob gave her an odd look. "If she were a kind hearted woman perhaps but she's far from it. Regina came from the east to marry Mary Margaret's father, who was the mayor of the town. After being here for only six months, he suddenly died and she stepped into his position. I don't have any doubt in my mind that David's marrying Mary Margaret spared the poor girl the same fate."

"That's terrible! How could anyone wish harm on someone else?"

"Because not everyone is kind. Because there's people out there that think when they don't get what they want, they don't want anyone else to have it either."

"That's just cruel."

"Aye. It is."

"Well, Mary Margaret seems quite happy with David and Emma now."

Jacob nodded. "They are that."

Belle fought the urge to move closer to him, to reach out and try to soothe him. He sounded so resigned to the fact that the world was unfair and cruel. But knowing what little bit she did about Milly, she could understand how he came to the conclusion. But seeing him from Mary Margaret's point of view and through his interactions with Bae, it broke her heart he didn't think himself deserving of kindness.

"Why did you let me come here?"

He kept his eyes focused on the ground. "Because Bae wanted it. He doesn't ask for much."

"I wonder where he got that from," Belle smiled. "What about you, Jacob? What do you want?"

"My son's happiness, that's all."

"And what about your happiness?"

"All I want is to see Bae happy and cared for." He stood up suddenly. "The barn needs to be closed up for the night."

Belle jumped to her feet. "I'll help you."

He started to protest but she walked past him before he formed any words. She was finding he was willing to talk but when he was done, or uncomfortable, he left. Well, she wasn't going to let him do that. They didn't have to continue the same conversation, she was more than willing to change topics, but she wanted to keep him talking. She honestly wanted to get to know him. But when she reached the barn, she realized she had no idea what closing up the barn entailed.

Jacob ambled in with a small grin. "Each horse gets two flakes of hay, check the water bucket and close the top stall door."

Nodding, she went to the bale sitting in front of the first stall and pulled two sections loose and tossed it into the stall. She was surprised when Jacob walked over and tossed two more flakes into the stall.

"You just tossed two flakes of straw in there."

Belle looked down at the bale she had used and back to what Jacob had in his hands. "So the green is the hay."

He nodded.

Belle "humfed" and went to the green bale, picking up two sections of that. "Well, at least I knew what a 'flake' was."

Jacob actually chuckled. "Indeed you did."

They worked quietly, together. The sound of water being poured into buckets, the locking of the stall doors, it was relaxing. The sounds of the ending of a day. Sounds she could get used to hearing at the end of every day. Jacob closed the door at the back of the barn and made his way to the front where she stood. In the dim light, she thought he was walking with a slight limp. As he came closer she could see him favoring the left leg.

"Are you alright, Jacob?"

He paused briefly. "Yes, of course. Why?"

Belle was brought up short. How could she politely ask why he was limping? Etiquette taught that it was rude to inquire about someone's physical state when the subject wasn't up for discussion. But she a diplomat and pulled on that reserve.

"It must have been the lighting."

He quietly nodded and pulled the barn door closed. "We should make sure all the windows are closed in the house. There's a storm brewing."

Belle looked up a the sky anxiously. There were some dark clouds on the horizon. She had heard of tornadoes destroying entire farms in the plains. The thought brought a chill down her back. "Is it a tornado?"

Jacob looked at the horizon. "No, not tonight. The sky is the wrong color but it will be a wicked thunderstorm."

Belle didn't like the sound of that either.

* * *

Gold had slept through his fair share of thunderstorms, a trait his son had inherited. There had been a time when Bae was seven and a strong gust of wind felled a tree, destroying their chicken coop and neither one of them heard it fall. But there were certain things that his ears were attuned to, things that raised the hair on the back of his neck and yanked him from a sound sleep.

When he woke up, he had listen for it though. Rain was lashing against the house, wind rattling the panes of glass but he heard it, a clink of glass. Getting out of bed, he made his way over to Bae's room. But lighting lit up the room and he saw his son sleeping soundly. The clap of thunder shook the house and he heard another sound of crockery rattling followed by a shaky sigh.

Belle.

He paused on the top step, where he could hear her noises of unease as she was doing something in the kitchen. She was a adult, she should be able handle a spring storm. But he couldn't bring himself to go back to bed. Belle was under his roof, under his care, and she was obviously upset. Gripping the banister, he made his way down the stairs and tried not to wince at the pain in his knee.

Which brought up another issue. She had noticed his awkward gait today. It was something he was hoping to avoid but she had noticed it. The coming rain had played havoc with the joint and she took notice. Even Bae didn't know the extent of the damage and he was certain if Belle knew the severity of his injury, she wouldn't be so keen to stick around for an extended period of time.

He reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around the living room just in case but the room was empty. He moved into the kitchen and found her emptying the cupboards. She leaned against the cabinet and groaned right before the thunder shook the house again. When the weather settled for a couple heartbeats, he could hear her emit a soft sob.

"Belle?"

She jumped back in surprise and tried to hastily wiped away the evidence that she was crying. "I'm sorry. I didn't know I was being loud."

He surveyed the stacks of plates, bowls and cups that were on the table. "You weren't. Was just checking on Bae."

She nodded but her hands were shaking badly. "How is he?"

"Sleeping soundly." Jacob pulled out a chair and sat down in it. "Why aren't you?"

"I did but then I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep." Lightening flashed again and she winced horribly.

Fear was something that he understood very well. "Why don't you sit down and tell me what's going on?"

She motioned to the cupboard. "I really should finish this before breakfast needs to get started."

Jacob pushed a chair out from the table with his foot. "It can wait."

With a shaky sigh, she finally sat down and twisted the cleaning rag in her fingers. "You must think I'm such a fool."

"No, I think you're a scared, young woman."

She was trembling and wincing at the thunder and lightening. "We never had storms like this back home. Rain coming down in sheets and cold, ice sometimes but the wind..."

"The wind is definitely a force all its own out here." He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to get her thinking about her home but it might help. "What is the landscape like back in Maine?"

"We live on the coast. It was rugged and rocky."

"Mountains?"

She nodded. "Some."

"That's why you're not used to this kind of wind. Out here, there's nothing to stop it so it keeps gathering steam."

"And this isn't a tornado?"

"Oh no, tornados are completely different. The sky turns green and everything goes still. Then, when the wind picks up, it's like hearing a train come across the fields."

"What...what do you do when a tornado comes?"

He swallowed his initial response, which was pray. "We go out to the barn. There's no windows out there which makes it safer than in here." He didn't need to tell her that in case something happened to barn, say the roof was ripped off or a tree fell on it, someone needed to let the animals out of the structure to seek their own safety.

The storm was passing and she let out a tired breath that left her shoulders slumped. "I've heard stories of tornados tearing apart homes and uprooting trees. When I heard the wind rattling the windows and the thunder..."

"And waking up in a strange place didn't help matters."

She offered him a small smile. "It's getting less strange."

It shouldn't have meant as much as it did to him but he was relieved to hear that she was settling into his home. "If there is a tornado, you won't be left behind."

"I know," she ducked her head and released the twisted up cleaning rag. "I was just-"

"Scared."

"Thank you." She stood up from the table and smoothed the wrinkles in her dress. "I guess I better get these dishes back in the cupboards."

She looked so tired, dark circles under her eyes and fatigue tugging down her shoulders. "You get some sleep, I'll take care of this."

"It's my own foolishness that kept me up. You go back to sleep."

She turned away from him, without looking at where her hands were in relation to the stack of dishes, and knocked a tea cup off the table. She lunged for it but he heard the china hit the floor boards and roll under the table. She moaned in despair, retrieving the dainty thing that had no place in the home of two men, and held up for his inspection.

"I'm so sorry but, um, it's chipped."

Jacob started to smile at the silliness of getting upset over something like this but Belle was almost in tears over it. He had no idea how to calm her, to assure her that there much worse things in the world. "It's just a cup."

She turned it over in her hand and pointed to a stamp on the bottom of it. "It's a very nice one. See this marking? It came from England."

He stood and took the cup from her. "It's still just a cup, no matter where it came from." He didn't have the heart to tell her that it was from a tea set Milly had protected with a fierceness. That tea set had become the first thing she had laid her affections on when he had apparently failed to capture her interest. The tea set, the quilt, the candlesticks all became things that she treasured and soon, things he came to hate.

"You're not angry?"

Tears were still welled up in her eyes and he fought the urge to wipe them away. "Of course not. You're tired, please, go back to bed and get some rest."

Swallowing her pride and her unshed tears, she nodded. "Alright. It's probably best."

He waited until her door shut that he started to put the dishes back himself. Being quiet had become second nature to him after so many sleepless nights after Milly had died and Bae was sleeping while his father tried to occupy himself. It didn't take long to get the kitchen back in order and he started to head up back up the stairs to his bed as well.

He picked up the chipped chip and held it over the rubbish bin but his fingers refused to release it. Turning it over in his hand again, he realized for the first time in years, someone had shown concern over his feelings rather than an object. Belle had been worried over him feeling angry or upset because she had damaged something of his.

With a small smile, he carried the cup back up to his room and tucked it away in a dresser drawer for safe keeping.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Great Wide Somewhere**

**Chapter Eight**

Two weeks had passed by in a blur for Belle. Her days went so fast when her nervousness finally vanished. Cooking had quickly become one of her favorite things to do, especially after Bae showed her a quick and easy way to kill a chicken. Using a metal rod instead of an ax made for a less dramatic situation and relieved Jacob of the frightful sight of her wielding a weapon around the yard like a mad woman.

But killing and dressing a chicken wasn't the only thing she had learned. She had now taken on tending the vegetable garden, tilling, planting, wedding and watering the plot that was right off the kitchen. She also had started to help Jacob close up the barn in the evening, giving Bae time to himself. Much to her delight, he was usually sitting on the porch, his nose buried in one of her books. The Three Musketeers was a volume that went missing frequently.

And when she climbed into her bed in the evenings, it didn't take but two pages of reading before sleep claimed her. After that terrible thunderstorm and Jacob's quiet assurance of her safety, she had slept soundly every night since. Finally, she felt useful, happy to have a purpose. Even though he never said one way or the other, Jacob seemed pleased with her efforts.

Belle sat down at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and a cookbook. It was the middle of the afternoon and she usually found herself an hour to spare around this time. Normally, she would have taken her tea outside to sit on the porch but a spring rain was falling and brought a chill to the air. For all her intents to find a new soup recipe, she found herself daydreaming about her two month agreement. Her first month was quickly coming to a close and she wasn't too keen to see the second go by as quickly. She loved it here, in the wide open spaces. She loved the sound of the animals and even the wind was growing on her.

But most of all, she loved Bae and Jacob. The widower and his son had engrained themselves in her heart so thoroughly, the thought of leaving now brought tears to her eyes. Bae had unabashedly treated her as any child would treat a mother. He brought her his clothes that needed mending, asked her advice concerning his relationship with Emma and gave her two hugs a day – one in the morning, one at the end of the day. Just last week, he slipped and called her Mama. They had decided to keep it between them but she allowed him to continue during the rest of her stay there.

But for all of Bae's affection, Jacob showed her very little emotion. She caught him smiling every once in a while, usually when Bae spoke about the latest adventure he and Emma had gone on, but rarely did he smile at her. And he had yet to touch her, other than accidental brushes of shoulders or fingertips. He even went so far as to let Bae help her up and down from the buckboard. The more he retreated from her, the more she longed for his affection. There was an underlying kindness to him but he had gathered so much cool indifference to cover it thoroughly.

She frowned into her tea cup. The thought of Jacob only tolerating her for Bae's sake did not sit well with her. What if she did stay past the two months? It would only be appropriate that they would marry then. But she didn't want a loveless marriage and if Jacob didn't feel any affection for her, she couldn't stay. Perhaps she could speak to Mary Margaret the next time they were together.

"Belle!"

She jumped at the sound of Bae's shout. She had never heard him yell or even raise his voice and to hear it now made Belle nervous as she went to the door. "Bae?"

He was bounding up the stairs of the porch, the hood of his rain coat knocked back and his hair plastered against his head. "I need your help. It's Papa!"

Belle snatched up the extra slicker that was deemed hers and followed Bae out behind the barn. Jacob was on the ground, trying to pull himself up by using the fence rails. There was a broken top rail which was the cause of his injury no doubt. There was no blood, no damage to his head. His knee was at a odd angle though and he was having difficulty getting his leg underneath him. She immediately went to his side, pulling his arm around her shoulder.

"Bae, get under his other arm," she instructed. Between the two of them, they managed to get him upright. She had to know where the injury was before they moved him into the house. "What hurts?"

"Knee," came the pained response.

The ground was muddy and slick. If one of them lost their balance, it could only make Jacob's injury worse. "Bae, we have to go slowly. We cannot fall."

The boy held her gaze seriously and nodded. Together, they slowly made their way back up to the house. Belle felt rainwater trickled down her back and soak her hair. She never pulled the hood up over her head. She concentrated on the feel of the ground under her feet and they finally made it back the house and had Jacob settled in a kitchen chair. While Bae helped him out of his coat and boots, Belle added more wood to the stove. All three of them were soaking wet and needed to dry off.

Belle pulled out a pot and filled it with water. "Bae, run upstairs and bring down a few towels. Also, bring some rags I usually use for cleaning as well."

"Yes, Mama."

Belle's hands stilled as she put the pot on the stove. All three of them seemingly frozen in the moment. Finally Jacob broke the silence.

"She asked you to do something, boy, get to it."

Breathing a sigh of relief at the sound of footfalls on the stairs, Belle turned to face Jacob. His head was down, his eyes screwed shut and his skin was pale. She knelt down on the floor by his left leg and tentatively touched the hem of his pants.

"Is it the left knee?"

He nodded. "I just need some rest."

"You need someone to look at it." She touched his ankle but drew back when he let out a hiss of pain. Without waiting for his permission, she unlaced his boot and eased it off his foot. It was already starting to swell. Heat wouldn't help bone like it would a knee, he would need ice. "You may have broken your ankle too."

"Here's the towels and rags, Miss Belle."

Belle took them from Bae and gave him a smile. "Thank you, Bae. I'm going to need you to soak two of those rags in water and then put them in the ice box please." Picking up one of the towels, she dropped it over Jacob's head and dried off his hair before tucking the towel around his neck and shoulders.

"Are you alright with him calling you that?" Jacob asked.

"I don't see the harm in it."

He heaved a sigh and Belle went back to her kneeling position on the floor, starting to roll his pant leg up to see the damage. There was some scarring around his knee cap from a previous injury, which meant he had been limping the other day. It was just another mystery that needed to be uncovered. But the knee was swollen, starting to show bruising and she couldn't tell the difference between the old injury and the new one.

"Well, Doctor French?" he quipped through gritted teeth.

"You need a real doctor." She looked back down at his ankle, now horribly swollen in just a few minutes time. "I don't know how badly your knee is damaged and your ankle will need to be set properly."

Bae stood next to his father's chair. "But Doc Whale is in town and it'll be dark before we can get there."

Belle stood up and straightened her damp skirts, pointedly ignoring the look Jacob was giving her. "We'll take a lantern and-"

"No." Jacob stated simply. "You're certain the ankle is broken?"

Belle bit her lip and inspected the damage again. "I'm fairly certain, yes."

Jacob closed his eyes and breathed through his nose. "Bae, get the shotgun."

"Shotgun?!" Belle shrieked. "What do you need with that?"

"Calm down, Miss French." Jacob said, his eyes still closed. "Two shots fired in the air will alert the Charmings to our need. One means they need to come immediately, two means to come when they can. Make sure it's two shots, Bae. No sense is causing them alarm."

"Yes, Papa."

Belle watched as Bae shouldered the rifle and headed outside. Two loud shots rang out and Belle sincerely hoped that the Charmings would get here sooner rather than later.

* * *

Jacob couldn't believe his luck. It seemed things had gone from bad to worse extremely quickly. While they waited for the Charmings, Belle and Bae had moved him into Belle's room, settled him in her bed since climbing stairs was out of the question. So there he was, propped up in a bed that smelled of roses, covered with Milly's quilt and the only objects in the room were the silver candlesticks and spinning wheel. Though Belle had a couple books laying on the bedside table but he didn't have the strength to see which ones they were.

"You don't have to move out of this room."

Belle continued to pack her trunk. "Nonsense. You're in no condition to be climbing stairs and won't be for weeks. It only makes sense that we trade rooms."

"I can sleep on the couch."

Belle looked up and gave him a stubborn look. "You're going to need your rest."

"So are you." He almost bit through his tongue when he saw the meaning of his words dawn on Belle. With him laid up, the responsibilities of the farm would fall squarely on her and Bae's shoulders. She was probably packing up for the next train back to Maine now. And he couldn't blame her. Didn't he realize this was going to be the ending to this little story?

"Papa, the Charmings are here."

Before Bae could say anything, Mary Margaret pushed her way in the room. She stopped short at seeing him in the bed, most likely assuming it was Belle who had been injured. She recovered herself quickly though, shrugging out of her coat and putting on the spinning wheel stool.

Belle had paused in her packing. "You know how to set bones?"

Mary Margaret smiled. "I've unfortunately become quite adept at it. Emma is not, nor will she ever be, a petticoat wearing, tea drinking lady of high society. Now," she turned to him. "What's broken?"

Jacob pointed down to his left foot. "The ankle."

Mary Margaret frowned. "I see."

"He hurt his knee too," Belle offered when he didn't.

"Let's start with the ankle," Mary Margaret said, her fingers already dancing over the swollen ankle joint. Without any warning, she pressed her hands on either side of the bone, gently moving things around until the breaks slid back into place. Jacob's vision swam slightly, a cold sweat breaking out across his body and he was able to hold his breath for the duration of the set.

"You sure you got it?" he asked, trying to stop the room from spinning.

"Does Emma walk with a limp?" Mary Margaret turned to the silent occupant of the room. "Belle, why don't you go get a glass of water and a set of warm and cold compresses while I look at his knee."

Jacob heard Belle's light step as she left the room. The pain had left him fuzzy and not in complete control of his mouth. "She's going to leave."

Mary Margaret was already wrapping a splint around his ankle. "She already did, Jacob. She'll be back."

He ground his teeth together to keep any more from coming out. But Mary Margaret was quick, quicker minded than most and he heard her make a small noise of understanding.

"You know, you could ask her to stay."

"She wouldn't do it. Shouldn't have to do it."

"You know, Jacob, sometimes I just don't know whether to smack or hug you."

He was certain without the haze of pain, her comment would still have confused him. "What?"

"When are you going to learn that when you need help, all you have to do is ask? Whether you like it or not, there are people that care about you. If you ask her, Belle will stay until you're on your feet again." She gave him a conspiratorial grin. "Maybe longer."

Jacob leaned his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes. "What makes you think that?"

"She stayed in the room during the setting of a broken bone, didn't she?" Mary Margaret sighed softly. "I sent her for water because she was crying, Jacob. She cares. Let her care."

That was easy for her to say, for her to even think. He had a hard time believing that Mary Margaret Charming had done anything even remotely unsavory in her life. She couldn't possibly understand what it was to carry sins and secrets with her. She didn't know what it was like to have blood on her hands. If Belle, or anyone, knew the truth, their care for him would soon dry up. It was best to not hope for anything otherwise.


End file.
